Wednesday, February 14, 2007

Sixteen years ago, I was sixteen years old having a perfect sixteen-year-old girl's Valentine's Day. I had mysteriously received pink roses and a handwritten poem and for about two hours... I was in love.

The beginning of the poem said:

When the seas reflect the starlight that twinkles in the sky,It can't replace the twinkle I've seen within your eye.

Sigh. Yep, my eyes twinkle like stars in the ocean. I love the ocean. I love my blue eyes. This guy hit the compliments dead on.

Then there were a bunch of other lines, and the poem ended with this last couplet:

Once I thought I was immune to Cupid's piercing dart.But, now I'm hit and must confess, it captivates my heart.

So, my heart pitter patters for a few hours wondering if the poem is from the cute football player in my English class who likes to wear Mickey Mouse sweatshirts, or from the other cute football player who sings bass in the choir, or the cute tenor that I stand next to in the choir who I adore because he is just too fabulous for words... and then I figured out who the mysterious flower giver is. It is the Skulking Boy who stares at me, and won't talk to me because he turns red every time I acknowledge his existence, with whom I have already had a discussion about the importance of being "just friends."

The next day, before school, I pulled Skulking Boy aside and told him that I appreciated the flowers, but that I felt the need to reiterate my desire to be "just friends." Skulking Boy gave me a look of death and told me that the roses were just an attempt to be friends. Wherein I asked him about the poem. Skulking Boy stated that the poem was just a "friend poem." I wanted to ask him if "Cupid's piercing dart" was generally a phrase he used in friend poems, but I realized that I was fighting a losing battle against the male ego.

(Least anyone think that I am a heartless wench, I have left out many details which make it obvious why Skulking Boy and I were not meant for each other.)